A Momentary Marriage(65)
When Laura returned to the room sometime later, James rose from his chair to face her. He found the words irrationally hard to get out, but he forced himself to say, “It’s time for me to move back into my room.”
chapter 25
“What?” Laura stared, her stomach tightening. It had taken her several minutes strolling through the garden to even out her nerves, and already James had destroyed her calm. “No! It’s not safe. I didn’t dispose of the mercury.”
“Then we must get rid of it. I cannot continue to hide in here.”
Laura swallowed the protest that rose in her throat. He was right, of course; their life must revert to a normal state at some point. No doubt James felt caged and uncomfortable here. It was absurd, really, to feel this stab of hurt. “Still, you must give the room time to air out.”
“In a few days then.” James was all business now, the dispassionate man she had known before.
“Very well. You intend to reveal that we found the mercury?” Laura was determined that she could be as matter-of-fact as he.
“I suppose I’ll have to.” He frowned. “Though I’d like to have some proof of who is responsible before I do anything.”
“What do you intend to do?” Laura asked.
“I don’t know.”
“It’s good to see you have a well-thought-out plan.”
A reluctant smile tugged at the corner of his mouth. “Clearly you’re going to force me to think.” He rubbed his forehead.
“Do you have a headache?” Laura took a step toward him. “Shall I massage your head again?”
James moved back a step. “No. Best not.” He began to pace. “I’ll go down to dinner tomorrow.” He held up a hand to forestall her. “I know you think I’m too weak. But so do they, and I want to surprise them. I need to judge their reactions.” Laura crossed her arms, jaw set stubbornly, and glared at him. He sighed. “Very well. I’ll wait two days.”
“I’ll agree to that.” Though James wasn’t even close to fully recovered, Laura had learned how far his will could take him. And she would be there to help him if he had trouble. “You intend to keep everyone uninformed about your progress until then?”
“If possible. I’ve either been asleep or pretended to be whenever anyone comes in. So all they know is that I haven’t died. You didn’t tell anyone I had improved, did you?”
Laura shook her head. “No one except Graeme and his family. They wouldn’t have said anything, knowing you are in danger, not even Mirabelle.”
“Everyone views their visit today as a ‘last good-bye’?”
“Yes.” The words sent a shiver through Laura.
“I made it clear to Owen that he must not gossip with the other servants about my condition. I dangled a permanent position as my valet as a carrot, so I think he will keep his mouth shut.”
“What about this evening? I imagine Walter will visit you again, and Tessa. Claude usually comes to see you in the evening, as well.”
“Checking to see how his plan is progressing, no doubt.”
“James, you don’t know that.”
“Why are you so protective of Claude?” He raised an eyebrow.
“I’m not. I just—I don’t want it to be one of your siblings,” Laura admitted. “Do you? Honestly?”
“Well, if you’re going to insist on honesty . . .” He sighed, shrugging a shoulder. “No, I’d rather it not be one of them. But I cannot let sentimentality interfere with my thinking.”
“I know.”
“I shall just continue my pretense of sleep. That’s easiest. What about you? Can you keep up the charade?”
“It’s a trifle hard not to look lighter of spirit,” Laura admitted. “But I managed it this morning.” That seemed ages ago. “And, aside from your mother and Walter, I am not usually given to conversation with any of them.”
“You won’t have to hide much longer. Everything can return to normal.”
“Aside from possible attempts to murder you.”
“Yes, aside from that.” He smiled at her. “But life always has its little ups and downs, doesn’t it?”
When James and Laura strolled into the dining room two days later, every jaw in the room dropped. But if James had hoped to see an indication of guilt on any of the gathered faces, he was doomed to disappointment. Astonishment so stamped their features that there was little room for anything else. Even the butler stood in blank shock, staring.
Simpson, not surprisingly, was the first to recover. “Sir James. Please, allow me.”